Dawn
by Cheesebad
Summary: When a sun is lost, a new day must begin. The son is never forgotten. Dawn always returns, even when worlds apart. AU
1. The Storm

A clap of thunder rolled through the sewer system. Splinter jolted from his makeshift bed, panting heavily. With every breath his eyes darted over the furniture and across the walls, slowing as the tempo of his breath and the beating of his heart returned to normal. The cold walls of the long abandoned subway station did not match the burning dojo walls of his dream. He was in a way grateful to be staring into the mildew filled room; it was a far better sight than his beloved home going up in flames. Fear hadn't gripped him this way since the day he lost his beloved. The heat of the fire, blistering his skin and the smell of smoke that filled his lungs, felt too real to simply be a memory.

He ran his hands along his face brushing matts of sweat-drenched fur from his eyes and took several calming breaths. He had just begun untangling himself from his bed of rags when another thunderous boom rang out, chased by a bone chilling wind. The icy gust cut easily through his sweat-soaked fur. Bundling the larger rags around himself he closed his eyes and fought off the cold. Carefully prying open his eyes he swung his legs over the side of the wooden platform that served as his bed, his thoughts immediately going from the child of his past to his present children. Reptiles were sluggish in cold weather; storms could be deadly for them. Whether natural disaster or the schemes of his enemies, he would protect his family no matter the cost.

He jumped off the platform, gasping as his feet hit the ground. The entire subway was flooded in ankle deep, ice cold, rain water. The water swirling about his feet had a strong current and was slowly rising up his legs. Splinter let out a string of Japanese curses under his breath. He should have realized it sooner. The week of constant rain had finally broken the day before yesterday, and yesterday itself was sweltering. Of course today would be a massive thunderstorm! Of course the sewer system had flooded the abandoned subway! Of course the reservoirs had filled to the brim and there was nowhere else for the water to go.

The young master trudged through the mucky rain water, quietly whispering thanks. The rain water may have been ice cold with hordes of garbage flowing through it but it was ten times better than trudging through raw sewage. He shuddered at the memory. Even with his expert balance, the muck covered subway tiles were slick. He placed a hand on the cold subway wall beside him to keep himself upright, feeling the chill of the stone beneath his paw he realized he could no longer feel his feet. Lifting his foot out of the water, he finally noticed the numerous cuts and scrapes from the cracked and missing subway tiles. He placed his foot back down and trudged onward not giving a second thought to his own discomforts.

He reached the door that had once served as the subway's maintenance office, now serving as his son's nursery, and shoved with all his weight against the steel. He let out a sigh of relief as his eyes fell upon each of his sons still safe in their beds. Once the door was fully open he propped a chair against the door handle to keep the water from pushing it closed.

It had only been a couple of months ago that Splinter scavenged enough materials together for his sons to sleep separately. As it was, his two eldest still shared a bed. The idea was met with much protest when he originally split them up; his boys enjoyed the closeness of the dog pile in which they formerly slept. It also provided much needed warmth on cool nights. The decision was a tough one for the new father, but too many mornings Splinter would rouse them only to discover bruises on their bodies from accidentally hitting and kicking each other during the night. The last straw was finding Michelangelo with a large gash on his leg from the sharp edge of one of his brother's shells. Splinter was working on refurbishing the offices of the subway to make separate bedrooms for each of them, a process that was taking more time than initially thought.

Michelangelo sat pouting in his bassinet. At just under three years old he was quickly outgrowing it. That was just as well, the bassinet was on its last legs when Splinter found it in the city dump. Now it resembled a wicker basket more than a bassinet. Splinter had been searching for a new bed for his youngest for quite some time with no avail. Michelangelo raised his arms up expectantly as his father approached. Splinter lifted up the shivering child carefully tucking him in the left side of his kimono. Michelangelo buried his face into his father's soft fur. Splinter instantly felt his son's shivering lessen and knew it was more from fear than cold. His youngest had always been fearful of the unknown and thunderstorms were no exception. He stroked his son's cheek and waded over to the bed his two eldest shared.

The twin sized bed used to house them all. The bed originally had been a children's bed shaped like a rocket ship but a decade of use and years of lying abandoned had not been kind to it. Splinter was able to make some minor repairs to it using plywood he had found outside a cabinetmaking shop. The most obvious repair he had made was to nail sheets of plywood to the sides and foot of the bed. Not only did this make the bed frame sturdier, it also kept his sons from rolling out and running about the lair. Despite his humble nature, Splinter felt a small amount of pride for his handiwork every time he saw it.

Raphael lay sleeping in a small pile of blankets at the foot of the bed, his elder brother Leonardo stood over him. He had just finished laying another ragged blanket over his brother when Splinter peered over the plywood. Leonardo quickly leapt to the edge of the bed and attempted to jump the plywood barrier in front of him, only to fall back down landing on his bottom. Splinter smiled at his eldest and absent-mindedly stroked his son's carapace.

"You make your father proud, caring for you brothers like that" he said and lifted the sleeping form of Raphael into the right side of his kimono.

The child stirred slightly as he was placed inside but did not awaken. Michelangelo reached over and gently touched his brother's face, happy to be so near to him. Splinter smiled at the sight and tightened the sash of his kimono as much as he could. He knew carrying his sons this way may cause the garment to rip and would definitely cause the clothing wear faster, but a new kimono was a small price to pay for his son's safety. It was a tight squeeze with three of them but it was less likely his children would fall out.

He reached over for Leonardo, only to find the small child beaming up at him mask tied slightly askew. Splinter had given each of his children a different colour of mask a few months ago when he had begun teaching them basic katas. It also help to identify which child was which, as much as he hated to admit it, he had gotten them mixed up on several occasions. He was glad to have given each of his children long names, it helped to be able to change names while in the middle of calling them, although he occasionally had a fifth turtle name Raphatellelardanglo. Leonardo was infinitely proud of his blue mask, only taking it off to sleep and bathe. Even during those few times it was a struggle to get him to part with it. Splinter hosted Leonardo up into his arms. Grabbing the remaining masks off the bedside table he tucked them within his kimono's sash. He had just arranged Leonardo comfortably in one arm when a small voice called out from behind him.

"Spinner, want out!"

The young master turned to see the last of his charges peering out from the bars of his crib. Splinter waded over and removed the heavy books from the plywood that lay atop. He had to arrange Donatello's crib in this way to prevent the toddler Houdini from getting out. Donatello had an insatiable curiosity and thus got into everything. Donatello stood as his father removed the plywood.

"Bad water, deep" he stated simply, a hesitant look in his eyes.

Donatello grabbed his father's shoulder as his arm came around behind his back lifting him safely to his father's side. Splinter rested his cheek against his son's head as Donatello snuggled into his shoulder.

 _"Isshouni ikimashou ka_?" Donatello queried.

Splinter lifted his cheek from his third eldest head, planting a quick kiss. The ease at which Donatello spoke both English and Japanese never ceased to amaze him. While Splinter firmly believed all his sons were gifted in their own ways, Donatello gift of intellect was most noticeable. Having done a small amount of research before the birth of his daughter, it was clear to the master that his son's intelligence was developing much faster than most. Teaching his sons martial arts daily came naturally to Splinter, finding a new intellectual challenge for Donatello was a difficult.

" _Hai_ , it is dangerous to remain here, we must find shelter elsewhere and wait out this storm."

The young master's arms were very full as he sloshed out of the nursery. Donatello crawled from Splinter's arms to his back, as his father walked. Clasping his hands around his sensei's neck, he hung from his father's neck in a mock piggyback ride. Leonardo stood in his father's arms; he then carefully hooked his feet on his sensei's sash. Grabbing Donatello's clasped hands; he buried his face into the fur upon his father's chest. Splinter had taught them to do this when he carried all four. Donatello's arms were the longest making him the only one currently able to reach all the way around Splinter's thick neck. By grabbing Donatello's hands Leonardo relieved some of the pressure put upon Splinter's trachea. With Leonardo's feet hooked in Splinter's sash, it freed his arms to be able to climb ladders or defend himself.

Splinter picked up the pace as he hurried along the freezing sewer pipe. The water was already up to mid-calf, soaking the hem of his kimono. He hoped the treacherous weather would have driven people indoors and no one would see his mutant family sneaking to the surface. He turned left into a downward sloping sewer pipe; one that he knew would lead to the Hudson River. Water surges pushed him forward and he struggled to stay upright in the deepening water. His destination was an abandoned warehouse along the river bend. It was set for demolition in a couple of days, so he doubted anyone would notice them taking shelter there to wait out the storm.

A strong gust of wind nearly knocked the family backwards. Raphael started whimpering, having been woken by the cold. Rain water poured from the grates above them. The wise rat used the small amount of light the grates provided to keep them situated on their path. Lightning struck the street above them, illuminating the dank tunnel overlaid in shadows of the criss-crossing grate above in one bright flash. Michelangelo cried out in fear.

"It's alright, my son, lightning is a dangerous enemy but it has no power here" Splinter stroked his son's cheek as he spoke calmly, "You must stay quiet, we cannot have a anyone hear you, especially those foolish enough to be about in this horrid weather."

He attempted to calm his youngest by reaching inside his kimono and stroking Raphael's head. Splinter could feel the shivers that were racking his children's bodies. He felt Donatello's grip loosen. He placed his free hand behind his back so Donatello could stand upon it and re-clasp his hands. Leonardo peeked over his father's shoulder at his brother. Donatello smiled at him.

"L-l-Leo h-has n-n-no eyes, b-b-blue "he said between chattering teeth.

Splinter looked down at his eldest face and suppressed a chuckle. Leonardo's mask had twisted around covering one of his eyes. Splinter waited a moment for Donatello to get settled again before retying his son's mask.

" _Arigato_ , S-Spin-n-er" Leonardo said, his teeth starting to chatter, he then buried himself deeper into his father's fur.

Splinter rubbed Leonardo's carapace in small circles. Michelangelo's crying had dulled to a shaky whimper; Raphael wrapped his arms around his younger brother, in a successful attempt to comfort him.

"We are nearly there my sons," he whispered, trying to calm his whimpering children.

He caught sight of the ladder that would lead them to the alleyway beside the warehouse. He had just begun his assent when a strong wind ripped through the tunnel, forcing him to hold on with both hands. An eerie call accompanied the wind, making Splinter's fur stand on end. Michelangelo let out a shrill cry and Leonardo lost his grip, falling backwards into the ladder. Splinter caught his eldest before he connected with the ladder rungs, gripping him to his chest; he waited for the wind to die down. He pressed himself closer to the ladder, now only able to grip the ladder with one paw. Donatello's grip tightened and Splinter felt the toddler wrap his legs around his waist squeezing with his knees. He wanted to move Donatello to his front to protect him from the wind but between the ladder and Leonardo he had no free paws.

With the wind came a wave, consuming everything in its path. It hit the family full force. Splinter barely managed to keep his grip. Donatello did not. He was ripped off his father's back and was immediately submerged in the icy water.

"Donatello!" Splinter cried his eyes wide with fear.

His heart leapt into the water after Donatello but his body climbed the ladder to safety. He scurried up the ladder and roughly shoved the unbolted manhole cover to the side. He pushed his remaining sons through the manhole and onto the pavement.

"Leonardo hide, your brothers" he cried, as he let go of the ladder and fell feet first into the waist deep water below.

"Donatello!? DONATELLO!" he bellowed down the sewer tunnel. He no longer cared if anyone heard him - not if it meant getting his son back.

He half waded half swum through the sewer water frantically searching for his missing child. He dove under the water scouring the bottom for anywhere his son could have possibly become tangled. He only breached the surface when he felt his lungs could take no more. He gasped for air.

"DON-A-TEL-LO!" He cried desperately.

Even as he searched he knew it was hopeless, the swift current was almost pulling him under. He continued to search; flinging trash left and right, his chest heaving as he frantically cried his child's name over and over. He began to grow light headed from screaming and holding his breath, his feet constantly slipping out from underneath him on the uneven, trash filled tunnel. Finally exhaustion overcame him; he knew he had to return to the surface. His sons were waiting and were in danger of becoming hypothermic if they weren't already. He desperately dove down one last time, brushing away the clouds of cigarette butts and other filth. He surfaced just moments later - no sign of his missing child.

As he stood still as a statue in the freezing water an awareness came over him. The same feeling that occurred the night he lost his beloved and Miwa. A feeling he would not wish upon his worst enemy- the loss of a child. He let out an unearthly howl that echoed through the tunnel and clear across the Hudson River. A cry would haunt his son's memories for years to come.

* * *

 _Isshouni ikimashou ka_?-Shall we go? (together)

What did you think? Shall I keep going?


	2. Remembering him

He inhaled deeply. Slowly his spirit and body became one, his senses returning with his spirit. He was brought back to familiar surroundings, the gentle flicker of his candles, the hard wooden floor beneath him, the smell of the sandalwood incense. A loud thump from the livingroom brought him back abruptly and completely. A small smile touched Splinter's lips. He found much comfort in the astral plane; someday his spirit would remain there indefinitely.

"RAPHAEL! Put down the remote! Or be prepared to be PUT DOWN!"

However that day was far in the future. Now, there was still much work to do. While the astral plane gave him peace, tranquility and clarity, it was nothing compared to the love and joy his family brought him. He blew out the candles, gathered them up, and rose with the aid of his walking stick. His body made its protests known, but he silenced it with a few stretches. His body would last as long as his family needed him and based on the yell that still echoed through the lair, it would be a while yet.

Silently opening the dojo door he discovered the cause of the ruckus; Raphael and Michelangelo were wrestling on the living room floor. While Splinter encouraged them to practice and hone their skills, the noogie maneuver Raphael just exhibited was hardly tactical. The two rolled to the left smacking forcefully into the bottom of the chesterfield.

"For the last time we are not watching Night of Undead ah-gain," Raph exclaimed, stradling Mikey's hips, pinning him to the ground. Mikey squirmed underneath Raph's weight. Reaching up he pushed his hands against Raphael's shoulders, attempting to roll them both over to gain the upperhand. Raph foresaw this and smugly grabbed Mikey's wrists holding them against the ground on either side of his head.

"How about the sequel, Dawn of Undead?" Mikey grunted, attempting to buck his brother off. Raph rolled his eyes, visibly unperturbed by his brother's efforts to get free.

"I could bite you," Raph threatened, his eyes narrowing as he leered over his brother's face.

"LEO-O-O!" Mikey squealed, his voice reaching an unnaturally high octave, "Raph's gonna bite me! And he really needs to brush his teeth!"

Raphael glared over his shoulder at his elder brother. "You better not be planning on taking his side, ya' know he's been askin' for this all day," he seethed menacingly.

Leonardo sat a few feet away on the armrest of the couch, his back towards the dojo. A book on ancient Japan currently occupied his attention. He placed a hand in the book to hold his spot as he lifted his eyes from the pages and met Raph's glare.

"Raph, at least brush your teeth if you want to be a snapping turtle. Once again, I refuse to be part of your television battles," he countered, a slight edge of annoyance in his voice, flipping his book back open and returning to his spot.

"Taking the high and mighty road! Aren't ya' fearless?" Raph taunted his older brother, releasing Michelangelo's left hand for a moment to snap his fingers sharply. Leo flinched at the noise but didn't acknowledge him, his gaze focused resolutely on his book. While Raph threw him a weary glare, Michelangelo took advantage of this distraction to wiggle free from his brother's grasp and sprint across the lair with Raph in hot pursuit.

Keeping his head low, Leo peered at his younger brothers over the edge of his book. A look of longing crossed his face before he turned his attention back to his reading. His eyes flicked to the remote, currently the object his two younger brothers were squabbling over. He looked back to his themin time to see Raph attempt to tackle Mikey only to have him dodge away at the last minute.

"Face it," Mikey quipped, "You and Leo may rule the dojo, but I rule the TV." He smirked before gazing imperiously at the black screen.

The television was a fairly recent addition to the lair. Paid for by the unwitting donors of New York, partly through lost pocket change although most of the donations came in the form of recyclables collected in the sewers and along patrol routes. An automated bottle depot facilitated a safe exchange of their haul, as long as they waited for the bulk of New York's homeless community to clear out. After months of collecting, they finally had what they assumed would be enough for a decent television. And no way to acquire one.

Unable to walk into a store, they turned to the online world. Sneaking into a public library near closing, they were met with a slight setback - not one of them had the faintest idea how to use a computer. Through trial, error and observation they blundered through the process of ordering their television. Actually receiving the order was a problem all its own. Solved by the kindness of a convenience store owner. The store had both a small post office and a problem with local thugs. The store owner was observant and quickly connected the sudden disappearance of the criminals with the sudden appearance of three deformed patrons. Although he found their choice of clothing odd, he was more than happy to allow them to purchase a post office box and a prepaid credit card. After befriending them, he signed for the TV and held it in the backroom. Getting a square television through a round manhole cover was, to say the least, difficult.

The turtles held up dog-eared copy of Electronics for Dummies (acquired at a library book sale) in triumph, as the television flickered to life. The television could not be used at the same time as the oven. Some of the channels were just static, and many others would suddenly become white noise without warning. Yet the young turtles treasured it deeply. Even Splinter had to admit that the purchase's benefit outweighed its distractions and allowed his sons to learn valuable lessons about the outside world from the safety of the lair. Although this 'Undead' argument was far from the educational programming he preferred.

"You knucklehead, get back here!" Raph charged after a giggling Mikey.

"Nuh uh, Raph, I got free so you are stuck watching Living Undead with me," he smirked.

"Oh come on! That one's even worse than Night of Undead!" Raph complained, skidding to a stop.

Mikey reached for the unclaimed remote, only to have his hand grasp empty air. His eyes widened in shock as he frantically began searching.

"Where- how could it- it can't!" he muttered as he tossed aside the cushions.

"Mikey." Raph nudged his elbow.

He followed Raphael's gaze.

Leo remained perfectly still, apparently reading intently. The usual perfection radiated from Leonardo, his back perfectly straight as he maintained his lotus position, eyes focused solely on the pages in front of him. The only thing out of place was the remote balanced perfectly on his knee.

Raph stood and hitched an eye ridge at his younger brother.

"Two… Three!" he signalled. Moving as one the brothers leaped up tackled their elder sibling. Knocking Leo off balance, the book went flying and all three brothers fell behind the chesterfield with a resounding crash.

Splinter suppressed a chuckle at his son's antics, and cleared his throat. "Ahem."

All three boys snapped to attention, their heads popping up from behind the couch. Splinter maintained his stiff posture and raised an eyebrow at his three charges. The gesture alone was enough to send the boys scrambling from behind the couch to form a neat line in front of him.

"Sorry Sensei, I didn't realized you had finished," Leonardo apologized with a small bow.

"A ninja must always be aware of his surroundings," his Master commented.

"Hai Sensei" Leonardo replied hanging his head.

Raphael turned his head slightly toward Leonardo, a smug grin on his face, obviously enjoying the reprimanding his older brother was getting. Leo punched him on the shoulder, making him stumble slightly to the side. Leo then turned his attention back to his father acting as if nothing had happened.

A crinkling sound caught their attention. Michelangelo pulled the now broken remote out of his shell with a look of surprise, reaching further back he pulled out an empty chip bag, giving it a knowing look of recognition. Feeling his family's eyes upon him he grinned sheepishly at them and tossed both items over his shoulder, wincing slightly at the sound of the remote clattering against the ground a few feet away. He grinned up at his father, ignoring his brother's glares.

"Can we go now? It's twilight!" he said, bouncing on his heels.

Splinter watched the broken remote slide itself under the coffee table, and briefly wondered if he had adopted the three little pigs instead of turtles. He turned his attention back to his sons. "Have you gathered the supplies we require for this evening?" he queried.

"Yup," Michelangelo chirped, grabbing a large duffel bag from beside the television and swinging it on his shoulder, causing the contents to clatter loudly against one another. "I even remembered your brushes this time!"

"Let us be off then."

The boys ran gleefully ahead of their master, bolting down the sewer tunnel. Splinter was not one for running without reason but his son's exuberance was contagious and he quickened his pace.

The brothers scrambled up the ladder of the nearest manhole cover, fighting to be the first to the surface. Splinter shook his head wearily at his sons as he tucked his staff in the back on his kimono, and climbed the ladder with both hands. As he exited Michelangelo and Raphael silently slid the cover back into place.

Michelangelo was the first to quickly scramble up the nearest fire escape, followed by his brothers and then Splinter. He breathed the clean, crisp night air as if it was intoxicating wine. Even the foul smell of New York's alleyways was a pleasant change from sewer air.

Leonardo stood on the rooftop's edge inspecting their surroundings, keeping a vigilant eye out for enemies. Receiving a small nod from his father, Leo returned the gesture before turning his gaze back to the city streets below.

"Do you think he would ever let us own one?" Mikey whispered as he crouched on the rooftop next to Raph.

"Nothing real loud. You know how Sensei is on stealth, but maybe a quiet one, like one of those Japanese ones," Raph replied rubbing his chin, pondering. Mikey raised his eye ridges in a smug manner. "Yeah I know how that sounds, nitwit" Raph replied slapping Mikey's shell with enough force to send the younger sprawling on the rooftop.

"Man, we would look soooo cool riding a motorcycle! Chicks would flock to us," Mikey whispered dreamily, picking himself up from the rooftop and dusting off his knees.

"Yeah riding a motorcycle would totally cover being a mutant turtle," Raph chuckled pushing Mikey back down onto the roof, as he stood and walked towards their father. "Come on."

Splinter nodded wordlessly to his two youngest as they joined him and Leonardo on the rooftop's edge. Without any indication, the four of them leapt into the night air, landing soundlessly on the adjacent building. They carried on jumping like shadows throughout the city. Leo took the lead with Splinter and Michelangelo a few steps behind and Raphael bringing up the rear.

"How about this, Raph?" Mikey jeered, flawlessly performing a backflip between two rooftops. His red-clad brother simply shook his head and continued running, leaping without flare.

"Come on, you just can't stand the fact I schooled you at Mario Kart today, I know you want payback!" Mikey taunted, slowing his pace so he could jump alongside his brother, the gravel crunching beneath their feet. Raph gave him an annoyed scowl.

"Michelangelo, be mindful when showing off," his master lectured with a twitch of this whisker. Splinter then performed a double backflip between two buildings. "As you may be easily beaten at your own game," he said with a small chuckle.

Raph grinned at his younger brother's defeat, shoving him lightly backwards as he ran, quickening his pace to run beside his Sensei. Leonardo grinned at his father's playful demeanour. Performing a sideflip between the next two roofs, he joined the game. The acrobatics carried on joyfully, until the family reached their destination.

They rarely patrolled this part of the city. It was a sleepy neighbourhood, wealthy enough to have minimal security cameras to deter thieves, poor enough to have nothing high-end to steal. Aside from some graffiti and a few trash cans being tipped over nothing happen in this part of town.

Splinter and his children disappeared amongst shadows. This area was almost a second home to them. This was the first place his children could remember coming topside, and the peace this familiarity gave them was a blessing. Splinter suppressed a small smile at the memory.

* * *

"Why so sad Sensei?"

Splinter started at the sound of his youngest son's voice. Five-year-old Michelangelo stood in the doorway, one hand on the doorframe as he peered cautiously inside the dojo. The orange bandana tied around his head highlighted the blue in his young eyes. He crept closer.

"Did you get an owie? I can kiss it better?" The orange-clad toddler offered. He paused near the the weapon's rack, seemingly reluctant to approach his distraught father. Shuffling his feet nervously he awaited father's reply.

Splinter breathed deep calming himself, before turning to face his youngest.

"Come here, my son," he beckoned, reaching out.

Michelangelo hesitantly made his way into his father's lap. Picking up a small yellow leaf from the dojo tree before sitting down. Splinter wrapped his arms around him, resting his chin on Mikey's head, closing his eyes. He felt a small hand gently touch his wet cheek.

"Why are you crying Sensei?"

Splinter looked down into his son's piercing eyes which begged him for an answer. He could not form any words. Splinter just hugged him closer and gently kissed the top of Mikey's head.

"It helps if you talk about it," Mikey mumbled, toying with the leaf. Familiar words, heard countless times from Splinter comforting him after a nightmare.

Splinter wished that was all it was, a simple nightmare. He closed his eyes and pressed his snout against Mikey's head, squeezing him closer. But this was real. His greatest nightmare played out. He had lost another child. He held back the tears threatening to spill from his eyes. Splinter ran a hand down Mikey's carapace, he still had him and two others. He had to keep strong for them, he breathed in and let it out slowly, regaining his composure.

"I was thinking about your brother," Splinter admitted with a deep sigh. "Today is the day he was taken from us."

"Don't-tell-o?"

"Yes, your elder brother Donatello. Do you remember him?" Splinter looked down at the small figure in his arms.

"I only have older brothers," Mikey retorted, still playing with the leaf. He squinted thoughtfully. "I dunno… He gave me a red car, we were playing and my hand got stuck in the wheel, he got my hand out." He ran his fingers across his palm, as if retracing a scar. "He wore purple…he made fast paper airplanes ... that's all."

"I am sorry you remember so little of your brother. I am to blame, even though it may be difficult, we must speak about him more often, so he will not be forgotten," Splinter criticized himself.

"Why is it hard to talk about him? You talk about me, Raph and Leo all the time. Expressly when we break stuff," Mikey voiced crushing the small leaf to dust.

"Especially," Splinter corrected. "It is difficult because… for many reasons, it is hard not to think of the life Donatello would have been granted if he was not lost."

He looked down at his youngest and noticed his brow creased in concentration. Mikey was usually a bundle of energy, for him to sit still for such a long period of time was highly unusual. He placed his paw on his son's forehead checking his temperature. Suddenly the young turtle squirmed, twisting around in his father's lap.

"Where was he lost?" he asked, looking up into his father's eyes.

Splinter was taken back by the abruptness of his question and the look of determination in his son's eyes. He furrowed his furry brow. Michelangelo knew the story of what happened to his brother. The youngest could recall bits and pieces of the night his brother was lost; he still feared thunderstorms because of it.

"Why do you ask this?"

"He needs a shrine," The young turtle stated plainly. Getting off Splinter's lap, he turned and attempted to haul his father to his feet. Splinter humoured him and accepted his help.

"He is part of this shrine." Splinter led Michelangelo towards the small shrine for his family. The candles cast a warm glow on the picture of himself and his human family. He ran his paw along the newest addition to the shrine - a small purple mask.

"This shrine means he is a part of you, but he's a part of me, Raph and Leo too," he explained, as if that was obvious. He turned to his master his face brightening with an idea. "He needs something to know that he was ours."

"What do you have in mind, my son?"

"He was a creator, so we need to crate for him!" Mikey a wide grin covering his face. "I'll be back!" With that he waddled from the room as fast as his little legs would carry him.

Splinter was left staring after the exuberant toddler with his ears flat back and eyebrows raised quizzically. "Create …" He let out a small sigh and turned to the shrine once again, bowing deeply. Thinking of those lost.

Tang shen, Miwa, Donatel-. His thoughts were quickly interrupted by the sharp cry of Michelangelo.

"RAPH! My teddy bear is not a motorcycle!"

* * *

Splinter chuckled quietly to himself as he looked towards Michelangelo. He still retained his wonderful childlike exuberance. Even when he was as still as the shadows that surrounded them Mikey radiated energy. He jumped quickly to the adjacent building on Leo's order to separate. Leo leapt with him, while Raphael and Splinter remained.

Silently they descended the fire escapes. Stopping about halfway their attention drawn to two security cameras at the mouth of the alleyway. Experience had taught them cutting the camera cables would result in the police arriving in roughly fifteen minutes. However tilting the camera would go unnoticed for days.

Leonardo let a volley of shuriken fly, planting themselves deep into the mortar and angling the camera toward the mouth of the alley. Raphael did the same, letting out a small hiss as a shuriken ricocheted off the wall coming within inches of cutting the camera cable.

Mikey dropped down onto the alleyway below taking off in a run. Using his momentum he slid on his knees towards the manhole cover in the centre of the alley. He roughly threw the duffel bag off of his shoulder onto the ground. Collapsing forward on the cover, he stretched out his arms as far as he could manage and gave it a warm hug.

"Hey Donnie! Did you miss us?" He asked gently, sitting up and running his fingers around the circumference of the cover.

"Mikey, you're going to get sick lying on the ground in the middle of the alleyway," Leo remarked kneeling next to the discarded duffle and rummaging through it.

"Nawh, Donnie wouldn't do that to me!" Mikey replied, still playing with the cover "He took care of us! Right, Sensei?" Mikey turned towards his master, his blue eyes flashing playfully.

"You are correct Michelangelo, when one of you was hurt Donatello always wanted to find a way to make you better."

Mikey glanced towards Leo, with a look of 'I told you so'. Leo shook his head with a sigh and tossed a can of purple spray paint towards his little brother, who caught it expertly. Leo looked back to see Raph approaching them tucking away the shuriken in his belt. Leo tossed a can to Raph and then took one out for himself. The three of them began quietly shaking the cans.

Splinter came up beside the bag as Leo moved towards the cover. Splinter took a small bowl and a bag of uncooked brown rice out of the duffle, and carefully poured the rice into the bowl. Taking two sticks of sandalwood out of his kimono, he stood them straight up in the rice. He then removed a small box of matches. Striking a match against the ground he lit the incense. Replacing the matches he bowed his head solemnly. The boys knelt.

"What is born will die,

What has been gathered will be dispersed,

What has been accumulated will be exhausted,

What has been built up will collapse

And what has been high will be brought low."1

Splinter repeated the Buddhist saying once in Japanese and once again in English. Each of them found something different within the words as well as peace. Once Splinter lifted his head, the boys followed suit, grabbing their spray paint and giving them another few shakes.

Splinter examined a discarded footstool finding it stable, he placed it at an angle so he could observe the mouth of the alley as well as his sons. He sat but did not fully relax as he watched the scene.

The boys chatted as they painted a large purple circle in the middle of the manhole cover.

"Mikey, you're make'n it too big, it's going to look like a sunset again," Raph teased his younger brother.

"I am not!" Mikey stood and look at the manhole cover. "Oh," he continued sheepishly, seeing Raphael was correct."Well, maybe Donnie liked it when it looked like a sunset." He added more purple to the centre to deepen the colour.

"He was our brother, not our sister," Raph shot back playfully.

"I'm sure Donnie likes it no matter how it turns out," Leo joined in. "After all, we do commit a crime in his honour!"

The three shared a small chuckle in response.

"What weapon do you think Donnie would have had?" asked Mikey tossing his empty spray paint can back in the bag and fishing out a yellow one.

"Probably something gadgety, or really modern. He always like mechanical toys best," Raph commented, "Always trying to fix them and stuff" shaking his can to get the last of the purple paint.

"Maybe two Kama2, he would probably rig them to make it into a Fukiya3 as well," Leo said thoughtfully placing his can back in the bag and grabbing a blue instead. He exchanged Raph's purple can for a red and tossed it to his brother.

"He would have been given the same test as you three. Ultimately the weapon would have chosen him," Splinter remarked quietly "What that weapon would have been will forever remain unknown."

The boys shared a look of pain and lapsed into silence as they continued their each began painting a small band of their own colour on the outside of the purple circle overlapping it slightly. When they reached each other's colours they overlapped again allowing the paint to blend creating new colours at the edges of each of their sections. They stood, in turn, as they finished, admiring their work. Raph's red connected to Leo's blue which in turn connected to Mikey's yellow, which led back to Raph's red. The purple centre connected them all.

"Mikey, you know we ain't painted turtles," Raph smirked.

Michelangelo quickly began to assess himself. "Where do I….?" He lifted his elbow and discovered a purple streak down his forearm. He ran his hand across the smudge smearing it worse. He shrugged and began rifling through the duffle beside him. "Your turn Sensei," Michelangelo chirped.

He brought out a small can of green paint and a small brush and handed them to his father. Splinter smiled and nodded his thanks. He rose stiffly from the stool and knelt down by the cover. He painted a large green circle around the circumference. A small but significant contribution. The bands represented each of the brothers connected to one another, the purple represented Donnie the largest connection between the three of them. The green was their Sensei bringing them all together and enclosing them. Splinter knelt by the artwork for a moment longer, taking in the display. Weather and time may wash the paint away, but they would remain connected to one another through art and memory.

Leo came up behind his father and placed a hand on his shoulder giving it comforting squeeze. Splinter looked up at his eldest, despair in his eyes but a smile on his face. Splinter returned to his feet as his boys crowded around the cover once again. They looked at the artwork, their colours and the green circle that represented Splinter connecting them all.

He looked to each of his sons. Each of them lost in thought staring down at the artwork at their feet. Despite years of training to hide their emotions, Splinter could read their faces as plain as day.

Leo's jaw was set, his features grim yet resolute. His eyes were filled with guilt. The sound of Raphael's shuffling caught his attention. Their eyes met, Raphael's gaze drilling into Leonardo. Raph shook his head sharply. Leo closed his eyes and inhaled deeply letting out a long breath, composing himself. He opened his eyes, determination clearly set in his gaze. He could not help but glance at Michelangelo before looking toward the grave once again. Leo would never lose another brother.

Raphael wore a nearly unreadable mask. Splinter, however, could see the sadness in his eyes and also the anger. Raphael thought of himself as a shield, taking on the injury himself rather than his family. Being unable to help his brother at the time of his death had lit a fire within him. He would have sought revenge if possible. Splinter watched the set of Raphael's eyes change. A burning desire to be strong; he would never again be helpless to protect his brothers.

Mikey wore a smile while standing unusually still. Most would assume he did not understand the situation, but Splinter knew better. Michelangelo smiled so sadness would not consume them. The artwork was his idea many years ago, to celebrate the short life of his brother rather than grieve the day they lost him. Mikey looked to his elder brothers before letting out a small chuff. He would never allow their small family to be consumed by loss.

A small tear slipped from Splinter's eye.

Anata o aishi, anata o ketsujō4

They held the silence for a while longer, each of them lost in their memories of Donatello. Splinter broke the silence.

"Even on this day the city is not safe," the wise rat declared. He looked out to the city street. "Go. Protect them as your brother would have."

The boys bowed as one, paying their last respects for the fallen brother. Leo and Raphael turned and began to ascend the nearest fire escape. Michelangelo lingered a moment longer.

"We'll be back in a year big bro," he whispered kneeling next to the cover, "Until then." He ran his hand along the purple smudge on his forearm, "You are with me."

He smiled down at the cover sniffing lightly. A light thump caused him to spin around, just in time to return Leo's hug. He buried his face in his elder brother's shoulder, smearing his tears away as Leo gently rubbed his back. He pulled away with a deep breath shooting Leo a large grin as he shot past him and up the fire escape. Leo shook his head with a small chuckle making his way to the ladder.

"Leonardo," Splinter called to his eldest as he placed a gold coin in the direct center of the cover. Leo turned back to him, his bandanna tails catching in the wind.

"Bring them back safe." Splinter said, his eyes never leaving Donatello's grave.

"Hai Sensei, I will always bring them back, just as they will me," Leo replied, and then he was gone, becoming yet another shadow in the darkness of New York City.

* * *

1- Is a Budest quote by Sogyal Rinpoche and can be found here

2- The Kama is a farming implement similar to a sickle traditionally used for reaping crops, but was also employed at a weapon.

3- The fukiya is a Japanese blowgun. Unlike modern western blowguns it has no mouthpiece, the operator must maintain a seal with the lips as they forcefully exhale.

4- I love you and I miss you

Author's note: I apologize for how long it took me to release this chapter. I could make a huge list of excuses but what it came down to was school, job and the passing away of a beloved K-9. I would love to hear your thoughts on this chapter!


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